


Legacy? What is a legacy?

by Respect_Potatoes



Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Avatar Peter Parker, Baby Peter Parker, Bending (Avatar), Gen, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Post-Iron Man 1, Pre-Iron Man 1, Timeline What Timeline, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Will Add as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2020-07-09 11:35:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19886977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Respect_Potatoes/pseuds/Respect_Potatoes
Summary: Tony never believed he would be a good father, that belief worsened when he realized that he had a child. After all what kind of jerk of a father ignored their own crying child to listen to the recording of said child's mother getting murdered?A world in which bending and superheroes exist, Tony will have to navigate the world of fatherhood, with the chaos of the unbelievable happening around him.(In other words I just wanted to make Peter OP, finally have an avatar Peter, and I love the bio dad Tony idea, so I put them together)





	1. Prologue

Mary held the bundle tight to her chest as she ran forward. She had hoped that she would have more time, but knew she was already pushing it at this point. As the bundle began to squirm, she cooed at the baby wrapped in the blankets. 

The baby’s face was light pink, its nose scrunched up, as if about to cry. After she placed a kiss on his forehead, and just like she expected, his commotion stopped. Mary placed the bassinet she had been holding under her free arm on the front step. Out of the bassinet she pulled her luggage bag, opening it and bringing out a manila envelope. She put the baby in the bassinet and tucked the large envelope on the right side of the infant, nearly hiding it from view. 

She heaved a whimpering breathe, felt as the tears began to stream down her face. Mary knew it had to be done, and yet, she still felt that she couldn’t do it. She kissed his forehead one last time, knowing if she prolonged any longer, her resolve might break. Turning, she began to walk away, albeit with difficulty due the tears obscuring her vision, continuing to cry. Meanwhile, as she continued to walk the baby slept in peaceful ignorance, unknowing of the path his life had just taken. 

* * *

For the first time in a long time, Tony wasn’t woken up by Pepper’s insistent complaining (“it’s not complaining, I’m just doing my job, which is to make sure you do your job” she had all but grumbled at the comment), but rather a low cry that echoed in his hungover mind. When he had first heard the cry, in his dazed state, he decided that it wasn’t his problem, and went back to sleep. 

Even with only 4 hours of sleep, he remembered having done his research on the street before coming. The area was as silent and peaceful as they came, therefore it was highly unlikely anything of importance was going on, and he doubted any paparazzi would find him there. With the blandness of the street no one would suspect genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, _Tony Stark_ , to be in the area for actual business rather than his usual fooling around. 

It took a while longer before he realized the small cry just kept growing and showed no signs of stopping. When it became like a hammer to his head, he began to lug his body toward the door from the couch, turning the lights on as he went. Disgruntled as he was, when he finally reached the door, he opened it and looked around for the source of the crying, not even attempting to locate it by sound. 

It wasn’t until he looked to the ground that he found what it was. A baby, red face scrunched up in an attempt of a cry, making pathetic whimpers instead. 

A baby. 

A _baby._

The tiny baby was wrapped in a blue blanket rimmed with red in a bassinet. In his panic he started to search frantically around for someone, anyone, who could have possibly dropped the baby there. When he realized that the light streaming from his doorway onto the street did nothing but unveil the desolated street, he felt his throat dry. 

After standing for some time, watching the street for any sign of life other than that of the small infant at his feet, he instinctively shut his door. Even with the door closed the baby’s weak cries sounded as loud as ever. 

He sat down considering what to do, he then realized it would be incredibly irresponsible of him not to bring the baby in, after all, even with the warm weather it ( _He? Her?_ ) could possibly end up getting sick. While he wasn’t the most responsible or best person, even he knew it would be terrible to leave the child outside, as for the time being, he begrudgingly accepted that the child would be his responsibility until further notice. He stood back up, heaving a deep breath and turned to the door. 

This time, as he opened the door, he surveyed the surrounding area to make sure no observers were around. The dark sky was becoming lighter, as the sun began to rise, he once again looked at the baby, noticing it’s chocolate brown curls under its small pale yellow hat. 

After staring for a bit, he finally took the bassinet inside and put it on the sofa he had been sleeping on prior to the disturbance. It wasn’t until he continued to scrutinize the baby further, that he discovered the folder. The folder, which he realized more than likely held information on who the baby’s parents were. 

Inside the envelope he found a birth certificate and what appeared to be a letter. He examined the birth certificate; the date was less than two weeks ago. The baby’s name was Peter Fitzpatrick. On the mother’s side of the birth certificate in bold print was the name Mary Fitzpatrick, which somewhere in the crevices of his mind the name rang familiar, he deliberately ignored it. To the other side of the mother’s name, where the father’s name _should’ve_ _been,_ was an empty slot. 

He grabbed the letter, a piece of notebook paper, neatly folded, and written in rushed script. 

_To Dr. Stark_

_If you get this letter, it means I’ve succeeded in getting Peter to safety. The project I’ve been working on is dangerous. The kind that could hurt many people in different ways. It has driven me to this point, and the people after it will stop at nothing to get it._ _I would leave more, but I fear that information on them or my work would cause more trouble than it’s worth. I made a grave mistake trusting those monsters with it, it is unlikely I’ll survive, and if I don’t, please take care of Peter. If I’m still remembered, he’s most likely still in danger. I suspect they already know of him, even with all my attempts to keep him hidden. I believe he’ll be safest with you; I wouldn’t leave him to you if I wasn’t as desperate. You might not like to know this, but he is your son, your flesh and blood, and when I’m gone, you’ll be all he has left. Please protect him, he deserves to live, even if without a mother. Keep him, even for just a couple months to keep him hidden. If you truly decide you don’t want him, at least hide who he really is. I’m not asking you this as some random stranger you managed to woo, I’m begging this of you as a final wish from a desperate mother._

_Sincerely,_

_Mary Fitzpatrick_

After staring dumbfounded at the piece of paper for a couple seconds he realized why the name sounded familiar, he had met and bed her like many others in the past. He couldn’t remember much of that night, or even of her, but he did remember her light brown hair and dimples. 

The reason he specifically remembered her was that she, unlike many of the others he had conquered, had been surprisingly smart. It made sense to him that one of his smartest catches would be able to track him down. Whether she was in life threatening danger, he couldn’t know, he hadn’t seen her since the night they met. 

He sat down (on the opposite side of the baby), pulled out his phone, and began to search for any pictures of the Mary he vaguely remembered. After a while of looking, he came across one that looked like her, from an article based on her ‘advancements in science’. He activated JARVIS (Thank god he had decided to add JARVIS to his phone), the voice being its usual English accent, giving him a soothing sense of familiarity. 

“Good Morning sir, may I inquire why you are awake this early?” JARVIS responded, unknowing of Tony’s dilemma. Without even trying to answer he put the image of Mary in JARVIS’s database. 

“JARVIS, look for this woman through any and all surveillance systems in the area. Find the most recent footage with her in it, don’t stop until you find her.” It took a couple of anxiety filled minutes, purposely avoiding looking at the baby before Jarvis responded. 

“It appears she left on a first-class flight to England approximately 2 hours ago. The plane has been unresponsive to operators on land for quite some time sir” Tony cursed and responded by telling JARVIS to bypass the airports security system to give any information on Mary or her flight. When JARVIS came back stating that the most recent information that he could find was more than over half an hour ago, in the airplanes black box, he started to bring out the footage. 

“I would like to advise discretion beforehand sir, as the footage involves some-” 

“Just play the recording JARVIS” He stated irritated. At first, he heard silence, before he finally heard the growing voice of a woman. 

“-can’t help you, I’m sorry.” It was Mary’s voice, sounding almost genuinely sorry, if not for the strain in her voice. 

“I knew you wouldn’t understand, I told them that too, but I was told to try. Either way, that's what these guys are for.” He heard the mocking voice of a man, then he heard rustling, what he assumed to be Mary’s movement or the other party. 

“I tried to be nice Mary, but both you and I know that I won’t leave without that case. If it means we have to shoot this plane out of the sky, with everyone else in it, then so be it.” He felt dread fill him and began to concentrate on the recording to make sure he didn’t miss any details. 

“Stop bluffing, even I know you wouldn’t be able to do that! And even if you could, you wouldn’t destroy the work.” Even as he heard the determination in her voice, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding. He heard the man chuckle as if he had just heard a particularly funny joke. 

“On the contrary, we’ve got enough force to shoot this plane to the ground faster than you can beg for mercy! You really think that work is so important, but listen here, that work is replaceable, you’re replaceable. And we can most definitely afford to get rid of both, but you and I know that if you want to live, you’ll give it.” 

The man, whom he decided was the leader due to him doing all the talking, seemed cocky, and that appeared to be enough to shake Mary’s once strong resolve, as her next her words were filled with uncertainty. 

“I… even if I gave you my work, what would stop you from killing me and everyone?” 

“See, that right there, that’s what I've always liked about you, you were always _so_ smart, sometimes, too smart for your own good. I’ll be honest with you Mary, after you give us those documents, there’s really nothing to stop us from shooting this plane down, but it _will_ stop us from getting to your son.” 

Ice filled his veins as he heard that. He turned towards the baby for the first time in the near hour he had brought him in. The baby was no longer awake, but the dried tear tracks showed that the baby had cried himself to sleep. Any hope he had that Mary had been lying in the letter about the danger flew out the window in that instance. He once again concentrated on the recording, already the man was talking. 

“...of him. And you wouldn’t want anything to happen to him, would you?” 

“You bastard-!” Mary’s voice yelled, and the shuffling sounds began to be more pronounced. The shattering of glass could be heard, the sounds afterward were more distorted, he could hear clips of voices (“NO!” “-ay away!”), but the sharpest sound that ripped through, was the bang. A gunshot. 

It was ringing in his ears, and he heard the man’s (“YOU ABSOLUTE IMBECILE!”), and J.A.R.V.I.S.’s (“sir, are you alright?”) voices, but it all sounded like white noise to him. When he finally came around, he reversed the last few seconds, but he didn’t hear Mary’s voice after the gunshot, just a dull thump. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together, he knew what it meant. The fact alone made his hands shake and his eyesight to blur. 

With his mind filled with panic, he did the first thing he could think of, and he called Pepper. It took three long painful rings before she finally answered. 

“Potts… oh thank god” He breathed out a relieved sigh, he heard as she blew out a soft breath. Her voice was groggy, and she sounded slightly irritated. 

“Mr.Stark? Do you need something? It better be important if you’re calling me at - 1 in the morning?! Mr.Stark, this had better not be some stupid errand, because I am not about to hop on a plane just to get you fresh donuts in the morning from the other side of the country-” 

“Potts, I… Pepper.” As soon as she heard the small pleading tone in his hushed voice, her voice became more alert. She got the message that something serious must have happened, just like he knew she would. 

“Mr.Stark? what’s wrong? Are you hurt; did something happen? Should I call Rhodes?” Her voice was full of worry, he heard rustling which he assumed to be Pepper getting out of bed. 

“I… Mary, she, the baby - Peter. I, he...”, it was almost impossible for him to force the words out. He didn’t know what to say, how to explain it all when he himself was stil registering it. He gulped a painful breath in. 

“Pep, I have a kid.” a quiver was present in his voice as he spoke. He sucked in a breath, as what he had intentionally ignored, finally started to sink in. 

“What?! What do you mean? Tony are you drunk?"

"No I'm... I'm sober, but I-"

"Is it another claim then? Do I need to call up your lawyers?” He could hear her moving about, and he assumed she was preparing to call his lawyers. 

“I need you to come over here to help me. Please.” He pleaded the best he could. While he had limited knowledge on children, he knew that they didn’t sleep long. 

“The earliest I can get there is in six hours, I’ll call Happy and have him pick me up from the airport.” His chest tightened at those words, he couldn’t take care of children, much less a newborn. 

Pepper must have realized he was about to go into a panic, because she then stated, “Tony, breathe, calm down. In 4, hold 7, out 8” 

“Pep, I don’t know how - I can’t take care of a baby!” He shouted, knowing full well that it wasn’t the best decision with a sleeping baby in the room. Just like he thought, less than a minute later, the baby started to cry once again.

“Wait, the baby’s there with you? What about it's mother? Where’s she?” Her questions reminded him of the true issue at hand. He looked toward the baby considering what to say. 

“She’s gone.”

His voice trembled while speaking those words as if putting the final nail on the coffin, Mary’s coffin. For a second he could’ve sworn the world froze with how long it took her to respond.

“She’s gone?” He could hear Pepper's confusion.

“She’s gone, and-” His mind turned back to the gunshot. “-and she’s not coming back. Ever.” 

Even though he couldn’t see her, he knew she was incredibly concerned, most likely from the finality in the tone of his voice. He heard her suck in a deep breath and then slowly release, before she finally spoke again. 

“Are you even sure it’s your child? What if she was lying?” While Tony hoped she might be right, he felt as though Mary was not someone who would lie about these kinds of things. Now that he thought about it the time frame matched. He had met Mary late December at a winter foundation and Peter was born in early August.

Even so, Mary showed she would go to all sorts of lengths to keep Peter safe, especially if she had taken Peter to him, an egotistical playboy billionaire who has never shown any indication of liking or wanting children. 

“I don’t know! Between trying to track down the kid’s mother and trying not to have a panic attack, I think it’s perfectly valid that I didn’t have the time to run a paternity test!” 

Pepper went silent on the other line, before she responded back. 

“Alright, I’m on my way to the airport, in the meantime, try to find advice online on how to take care of a child. You learned rocket science overnight, I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Don’t do anything too irrational until I get there.” She hung up right after. Once she hung up Peter’s cries seemed almost deafening to his ears. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, does Pepper seem Ooc, or is it just the fact that she got woken up by her boss at 1 in the morning to tell her he fucked up and need her to get on a 7-9 hour plane ride? Really though, what do you think? Leave a review.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby Peter has sleeping issues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry late Christmas (even to those wo don't celebrate) take this as a late Christmas present. Or don't.

"Sir, it would seem the young master Peter is in distress"

Tony turned to the ceiling a disbelieving look on his face. He had been moments before working on some new tech blasting AC/DC when JARVIS had cut the music. JARVIS's message soon registered as he put down his tools.

"JARVIS what time is it?"

"It is 3:14 in the morning, sir."

He swore realising he had likely spent all his time for sleeping that day working on his gadget. Not for the first time that week, he felt regret in having gone against Peppers recommendation for him getting a proper sleeping schedule. He got up, stretching his arms above himself as he did so, asking JARVIS how long Peter had been up prior JARVIS's message.

"He started stirring approximately 3 minutes ago, when he awoke and made distressful sounds seconds ago."

"Alright, thanks JARVIS." Tony walked to the doorway going up the stairs until he met the gate at the top of the stairs. He quickly opened the latch, wondering to himself why he had gone through all the trouble of baby proofing his home when Peter couldn't even flip over yet.

Once he neared Peter's doorway he was able to hear the baby's whimpers. Had he been himself from a couple months ago, he would have been concerned, but he knew by now that that was Peter's form of crying. He could still remember his early days with Peter when he would be incredibly worried and freaked out about Peter's crying, or rather, his lack thereof.

He entered Peter's room, observing the pastel yellow walls, remembering it was Rhodey who had suggested the color. (He and Pepper had been too busy arguing why the room should/shouldn't be hot rod red (he would later be grateful for that assessment) (not that he'd ever tell Pepper that)). Tony noticed Peter's whimpers lowered somewhat, as soon as he entered the room as if Peter could sense his presence.

Tony reached into Peter's crib to lift him into his arms. Peter's whimpers still continued which meant he needed something other than Tony being with him. He knew Peter wasn't hungry or in need of a diaper change, Tony already knew Peter's "cries" for food and such, and he knew for a fact those weren't it. He felt the teary doe eyes, scarily like his own, observing him. As he carefully placed Peter to his chest and looked at his tearful face, he heaved a deep breathe.

"It's one of those days isn't it bud?"

When he stated one of those days, he meant the kind of days in which Peter woke up and couldn't fall back to sleep. Though he knew it likely wasn't, he'd often believe they were nightmares. It hurt his heart to think that Peter could have nightmares this early in life, and it made him doubt in his ability to be a parent. He'd gotten used to that doubt and ignored it in favor of attending to Peter.

Peter sniffled as if to signal his agreement to the prior assessment. Tony sighed, knowing he wouldn't be getting much sleep that night. After all Peter would be waking him up in a couple hours for a diaper change. He held Peter's face to his chest and swayed slightly to sound of the faintly remembered beat of a lullaby. As he began to sing he recalled the first night he had done so, almost three months ago.

* * *

It had been a couple weeks since Peter had been officially put in his care, and Tony had just been about to drink another shot of scotch when he heard the unmistakable sound of Peter's whimpers. Something that had eluded him was how quickly intuned he became to Peter's cries of needs.

He huffed a sigh realizing that this was his first night alone with Peter, due to no one being available. Peter's regular nanny had left for a family emergency, Pepper was too busy working on the missed SI work, and Rhodey had work and missions.

Although the obvious decision should have been to hire Peter another nanny, he wasn't sure he could do that. He was afraid that without Pepper's screening he wouldn't be able to find a nanny without leaking the news of Peters existence, and sure he was irresponsible, but he wasn't going to willingly put Peter in danger.

So here he was, drunk with half a bottle of scotch, about to go fix whatever was wrong with his baby. Peter, Peter, not his baby. That had been going on recently as well having to correct himself, to not get attached. It was hard, but he knew it had to be done. He couldn't let himself get attached, decide to keep him, and screw up Peter just like his own father had him.

The walk was short if a little tilted due to his drunken state, but he knew he made it once he heard Peter's whimpers get louder. He entered the room in a languid pace and once he reached Peters crib he stared at him from above. Peter continued to whimper even seeing Tony above him but the whimpers had quieted to a certain degree. He sighed not knowing what to do

"Hey buddy, there's something wrong and I don't know what it is, but I'd be grateful for some sort of help here."

Tony, of course, new Peter couldn't respond, but that didn't stop him from trying. For a second he considered the idea of creating something to be able to communicate with babies, but scrapped it immediately. It would be too much hassle for an infant that would only stay with him for a couple more months

Tony hesitantly picked Peter up, trying to remember how exactly to pick him up, and bounced him up and down, but it appeared Peter wasn't satisfied as he continued crying. He tried walking with Peter, tried reading to Peter (something he had secretly observed Peter's nanny do), and gave him a bottle, but none of them calmed his cries. Slowly but surely Tony began to lose it, wondering what he could do.

Distantly in his mind he recalled a moment of similar distress when at a family gathering (Rhodes, not his), Rhodey had once handed him a sleeping niece of his. He remembered how the nieces mother insisted he hold her even when she started crying. The woman had told him that singing her a lullaby would usually lull her back to sleep. Right afterward he had of course handed her back, but at the moment, he couldn't hand Peter back to anyone.

He vaguely remembered that his mother had sung a lullaby to him once when he was a child, after he'd had a nightmare. She had told him multiple times how he was a needy baby needing her to sing that lullaby to make him stop crying. It was one of the few times he remembered her singing in italian.

He's not entirely sure what made him do it, maybe his drunkenness, maybe the nostalgia, but soon after, he started singing the lullaby.

_"Fai la ninna, fai la nanna_   
_con'sto fialio non c'è più pace_   
_Fai la ninna, fai la nanna_   
_pupo bello della mamma_   
_Ninna oh, ninna oh"_

He continued singing the lullaby as soon as he did so Peter stopped his weeping and Tony was soon staring down at chocolate brown eyes.

_"Lo daremo alla Befana_   
_Che lo tenghi una settimana_   
_Lo daremo all'omo nero_   
_Che lo tenghi l'anno intero_   
_Ninna oh, ninna oh"_

Tony watched as the baby's eyes began to droop and open abruptly, as if Peter were fighting to stay awake.

_"Fai la ninna, fai la nanna_   
_pupo bello della mamma_   
_Lo daremo alla Befana_   
_Che pazienzia che ci vo_   
_Ninna oh, ninna oh_   
_Fai la ninna, fai la nanna"_

Peter's eyes were finally shut, having finally lost the battle with sleep. He continued to sing, rocking Peter gently, knowing he was asleep, but not caring, too entranced in the moment to care. Too entranced with his baby to be concerned with anything else, knowing the planet could be destroyed at that moment, and he'd still be too captivated by Peter to care.

Waking up the next morning would come with a horrible hangover, and the terrifying realization that he loved his baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I just procrastinate too much.


End file.
